


The Holiday

by afterthenovels



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, The Holiday AU, multi-chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-06 03:51:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1102077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterthenovels/pseuds/afterthenovels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Klaine AU for the movie “The Holiday” with Kurt as Amanda and Blaine as Graham: </p>
<p>Kurt trades homes for the holidays because he wants to get away from his life for a while. But the last thing he expects to meet in the quiet English town he’s staying in is someone like Blaine.</p>
<p>Inspired by <a href="http://sararye.tumblr.com/post/69380803992">this gifset</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by [yuletideblaine](http://yuletideblaine.tumblr.com) and [goodayoldsport](http://goodayoldsport.tumblr.com).

**Kurt:** _I have just one more question... Are there any men in your town?_  
 **Cooper:** _You mean once I leave? Z E R O._  
 **Kurt:** _Is tomorrow okay?_

 

\---

 

Kurt has only been in this town for less than twelve hours, but he already feels like packing his bags again and going back home to New York. Clearly thinking that he would feel less lonely and less sad in another country on Christmas was a mad idea. The cottage he swapped with Cooper is nice and quaint (especially now that he figured out how the fireplace works), he does have wine and all sorts of delicious food he bought from the grocery store and a pile of books waiting for him on the bedside table, and the snowy landscape around him is quiet and calm, definitely different from the constant hum he's used to in New York.

But he still feels lonely and sad. Even more than he did in New York. The whole idea was to get away from familiar places and faces, to get a break from all his work-related stress, the hopeless guys he's tried to date and the emptiness of his own house -- but now he would give anything to see the same familiar view from his living room window instead of the dreadfully dark English countryside around the cottage.

So Kurt books himself a return flight for the next day, packs his bags just a few hours after he unpacked them, and settles in for his first and last night, wondering how on earth he's going to get Cooper -- who seemed really excited about going to the States -- out of his house after only a day. He feels kind of bad for breaking their deal, but better that than spending another day in Surrey by himself and feeling miserable.

He has almost fallen asleep when he suddenly hears a knock on the door, the sound making him jump up in bed and clutch the covers to his chest. He hasn't heard anything or anyone for hours, and the nearest neighbors seemed to live quite far away from the cottage, so perhaps it was just the wind howling outside. Or some snow falling from the roof.

Except someone knocks on the door again, more insistently this time, and now Kurt can hear a male voice shouting on the front porch.

"Cooper! I know you're awake, Coop, so let me in!"

Kurt stumbles out of bed and hastily pulls on a cardigan. He doesn't find anything he could use as a weapon, but he creeps downstairs anyway and stops before he reaches the front door, feeling his heart hammering against his chest. Cooper didn't say anything about yelling late-night visitors when he offered his house for Kurt. If it's a crazy axe murderer, how long does it even take for the police to get here? The taxi ride from the airport was long enough.

"Who is it?" he calls out tentatively.

"It's me," the voice yells back, unhelpful. "Hurry up, it's freezing in here!"

"Who are you?" Kurt tries again.

"Cooper, I swear to god, if you don't let me in right now I'm going to take a leak all over this porch--"

Kurt squeaks and rushes to open the door, flinching when the freezing air hits his face. The guy standing outside has his shoulders hunched and his hands pushed into his pockets to ward off the cold, but his head snaps up when the door bangs open. Kurt can feel his heart immediately stuttering inside his chest and skipping a few beats. The guy looks _gorgeous_. He has dark hair that has been slicked back with gel, as if he's a movie star from an old Hollywood movie, and beautiful brown eyes that are currently staring at Kurt in obvious confusion. His cheeks are flushed, and Kurt can see a polka-dotted bowtie peeking out between the collar of his form-fitting coat.

Cooper Anderson was clearly lying when he said there weren't any men in this town.

The guy blinks his eyes. "You're not Cooper," he says slowly, swaying in place. "Or if you are, I'm much drunker than I thought."

Kurt lets out a surprised laugh. "No, I'm not. And I have no idea who you are."

The guy frowns, leaning back to look at the house. "But this is Cooper's house. And if you were one of his friends, I'm pretty sure I would remember you, even if I'm a bit drunk right now," he says seriously. "Cooper doesn't have any friends that look as gorgeous as you do."

Kurt ducks his head with a blush. Maybe this guy isn't a crazy axe murderer after all -- or if he is, at least he knows how to butter up his victims.

"Um, I don't really know Cooper," Kurt explains, "I just swapped houses with him for the holidays. Through a home exchange website? I'm here in England, and he's in New York."

"New York?" the guy repeats. " _Coop_ in New York? That must be a sight. He's probably on his way to L.A. already." He stomps his feet a little and pushes his hands deeper into his pockets. "Um... Look, I really don't mean to intrude, but could I please come inside to use the bathroom? I'll leave as soon as I'm done, I just really do need to--"

"Oh!" Kurt takes a step back before he even realizes what he's doing. "Um, sure, go ahead."

"Thank you," he guy breathes out sincerely, stepping inside and heading straight to the bathroom before he turns around and extends his hand to Kurt. "My apologies, I completely forgot -- I'm Blaine, Cooper's younger brother."

"Kurt. Hummel," Kurt adds and takes Blaine's hand, both of them wincing a little because his skin is so cold.

"It's nice to meet you, Kurt Hummel," Blaine says with a genuine smile, and then he ducks into the bathroom and closes the door behind himself.

Kurt stands frozen in the hallway for a moment, staring at the bathroom door. _A brother_. Cooper's younger, handsome and polite brother who has eyelashes that go for miles and is dressed in fashionable clothes that fit him like they've been tailored. And Kurt -- Kurt is wearing an old cardigan and a pair of sweatpants, and he probably has a very bad case of bedhead. It's not like he thought there was going to be anyone he should try to impress here in the middle of nowhere.

He has just started frantically straightening his hair and clothes when Blaine's voice calls from the bathroom, "So, Kurt Hummel --"

"Yes?" Kurt squeaks, and jesus, what is it with his voice tonight?

He hears the faucet turn off and then Blaine steps out, his coat now hanging open and revealing the slightly wrinkled shirt-sweatervest combo he's wearing underneath. He stumbles a little as he closes the door, rolling his eyes at himself as Kurt instinctively reaches out to help him.

"I really am sorry for disturbing your night," Blaine says sincerely, smoothing his hands down his coat in a nervous gesture as he straightens up. "See, the thing is -- every once in a while I go out to the pub for a night out with my old friends, and whenever I do that, I tend to crash at my brother's place so I don't have to get a cab or walk the long way to my own house. Now obviously my brother forgot to mention that he's out of town tonight..." Blaine pauses, frowning in thought until he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "Or maybe he did mention it, but the few beers I've had have managed to make me forget it already."

Kurt laughs, feeling his shoulders relax with the amusement. Definitely not a crazy axe-murderer, then.

"Anyways," Blaine continues, straightening his back and meeting Kurt's eyes. "I'll get out of your hair now. I'm sincerely sorry for disturbing your evening with my drunken ramblings." He gives a small bow, stumbling again, and then takes a step towards the front door.

"You don't have to go," Kurt blurts out.

Blaine stops and turns to look at Kurt. "I'm sorry?"

"You don't have to go," Kurt repeats. He suddenly doesn't want Blaine to go, and he's not really sure what's gotten into him. Blaine just seems genuinely... _nice_ , a welcome counterbalance to all the people he knows in New York, and Kurt doesn't want to send a nice guy out into the cold this close to Christmas. "I mean," he stutters when Blaine just stares at him in confusion, "it's late and the weather is kind of awful, and you are clearly at least a little bit drunk. No offence," he adds, and Blaine shakes his head as if to say 'none taken'. "I just don't think it's a very safe idea for you to wander out there on your own," Kurt continues, gesturing at the couch. "And there is a perfectly good couch right here."

"You honestly wouldn't mind?" Blaine asks, and once Kurt nods, he lets out a relieved sigh. "Oh my god, thank you _so much_. You're a real lifesaver. I promise I'll be out of here first thing this morning, I swear. You won't even notice I'm here."

"No, don't worry about it." Kurt waves his hand in the air. "I'm leaving tomorrow, so..."

"Wait, hang on." Blaine frowns as he moves to sit down on the sofa, swaying a little in place. "When did you get here again?" he asks, squinting his eyes up at Kurt.

"About eight hours ago?" Kurt says. He moves to pick up the spare pillow and blanket he noticed earlier and hears Blaine laugh behind him.

"Eight hours? Wow, we really made an impression on you then..."

"No, it's not..." Kurt pauses as he hands the makeshift bed over to Blaine. He doesn't usually talk about his life to complete strangers, but there's something about Blaine that makes it feel alright. Besides, it's not like they're going to see each other after tomorrow anyway. "It's not this place," he says eventually, "it's me. I somehow got the idea that I would feel happier and less alone if I went someplace new for the holidays, but then I got here and felt even more alone than I did back home, and I just..." He sighs self-deprecatingly. "Clearly it wasn't one of my brightest ideas."

Blaine gives a sympathetic smile as he loosens his bowtie. "I'm sorry. No one should feel alone during the holidays. And you in particular shouldn't, because you seem like someone who deserves to be happy, and not just during the holidays." He seems to realize what he said after a moment because he looks away with an awkward expression and rubs the back of his neck again. "And you certainly don't deserve drunken strangers interrupting your night with mindless sweet-talking..."

Kurt blinks his eyes in surprise. It's been a while since someone has said something that nice to him -- the fashion world isn't a place known for its kindness, even if Kurt's employer at Vogue Dot Com is definitely one of the few good people. He has his friends, of course, and they compliment his outfits and ideas every now and then, but his last serious relationship ended extremely messily just a little over a month ago, and before that he and his boyfriend had already been arguing non-stop for weeks. Kurt still feels a chill run up his spine when he remembers the insults he and his ex hurled at each other during their worst fights.

"No, it's... Thank you," he says quietly, sitting down on the couch next to Blaine and hesitantly placing his hand on his knee. Blaine looks up at the touch, his eyes surprised. "It's sweet of you to say something like that," Kurt adds.

Blaine's lips turns into a small smile, and Kurt finds himself wondering what it would feel like to kiss them. Is this what people mean when they say they shared a moment with someone?

"Well, I'm glad you didn't think it was creepy," Blaine jokes. He squeezes Kurt's hand briefly and then shrugs out of his coat. "Honestly though, you can get back to whatever it was you were doing. I'll just nap here for a while and then I'll be gone in the morning."

Kurt can feel his heart clenching inside his chest for some reason. He notices his hand is still resting on Blaine's knee and pulls it away, hoping his blush isn't too noticeable. "Alright then," he says quietly, not really understanding why he feels so disappointed. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Kurt," Blaine replies, closes his eyes and leans in to place a quick kiss on Kurt's lips.

Kurt freezes.

The kiss lasts only a moment, but soon after Blaine's eyes pop open and he stares at Kurt with a mortified expression. "Oh my god," he gasps out. "I'm _so_ sorry, Kurt, I really am, that was just-- I can't believe I just did that. I know my inhibitions fly out of the window when I'm drunk but that wasn't--"

He's starting to scramble backwards, trying to put more space between them on the sofa, but Kurt reaches out and grabs Blaine's arm, stopping his embarrassed rambling. Kurt stares at him and licks his tingling lips, watching the way Blaine's eyes instinctively drop down to follow the movement and then look back up again. It was just a short peck, a fleeting touch of Blaine's chapped and warm lips, but suddenly Kurt wants more. He wants to bury his hands in Blaine's hair, break away the curls that are starting to escape the gel, wants to seal his mouth over Blaine's and swallow every sound that passes his lips.

"Would you..." he starts, hesitating and then glancing at Blaine's lips. "Would you mind doing that again?"

Blaine swallows, his throat bobbing. "E-excuse me?"

"Kiss me," Kurt breathes out. "Please."

Blaine searches his face for a moment, and then he surges forwards, capturing Kurt's lips in a searing kiss that makes Kurt's knees feel like jelly even though he's sitting down. He stumbles backwards from the force of the kiss before responding eagerly, sucking Blaine's lower lip into his mouth and tangling his fingers in Blaine's hair, pulling him closer. Blaine grabs his arms, steadying them as he licks into Kurt's mouth and makes him let out a breathy sound.

It's the best kiss Kurt has ever had. He's never kissed a complete stranger before, hasn't even thought about it that often, but kissing Blaine is... breath-taking. Blaine uses just the right amount of pressure, he's passionate but not sloppy, and he has enough coordination even if he's a little drunk and Kurt can taste the alcohol in his mouth. Blaine is the most amazing kisser Kurt has ever had the pleasure of kissing, and when he's starting to feel light-headed from all the making-out, he can't help but wonder if Blaine is as good in... other activities.

And wow, that's a pleasant thought.

"Wait," he gasps out, breaking the kiss abruptly. Blaine tries to chase his lips and then blinks his eyes open, staring at Kurt with his pupils blown wide. "Just... wait," Kurt repeats, trying to catch his breath.

"Was that... Was that okay?" Blaine asks hesitantly, searching Kurt's face again.

Kurt laughs. "'Okay'? You're asking me if that was okay when I'm gasping for breath after you rocked my world?"

Blaine blinks and then ducks his head with a soft laugh, all bashful school-boy, and Kurt can feel heat twisting in his stomach. There's a gorgeous, hot and funny man sitting next to him, someone who seems just as willing as Kurt himself feels like, and god, if this is his last night in this town, he'd be a fool not to take advantage of that.

"Look, Blaine," he starts. Blaine looks up, smiling, and Kurt's stomach swoops with an entirely different emotion. "I'm kind of having a rough time right now," he continues, "and then you just show up, and considering that you're extremely good-looking and we probably won't see each other after tomorrow anyway, I'm thinking we should... have sex."

Blaine's eyes widen.

"If you want to," Kurt adds hastily.

Blaine gives a surprised laugh. "Is that a trick question?"

"I'm perfectly serious," Kurt says, keeping his voice even. It feels crazy, it feels so unlike him, but isn't that the point of holidays? To step outside your comfort zone? And he feels safe with Blaine, he already knows some things about him besides the instant attraction -- it's not a seedy one-night stand after a night at the bar, something Kurt would never do.

This is something... more. Maybe.

Blaine looks at him, and Kurt can see his eyes softening, even if the heat in them never lessens. "I already thought that you must be the sexiest and most beautiful man I have ever seen," Blaine confesses in a low voice, and Kurt blushes, "and now you're turning out to be the most interesting one as well."

Kurt grins, pleased. "Is that a yes?"

" _Yes_ ," Blaine breathes out, closing the space between them and pulling Kurt in for another insistent kiss. "Oh my god yes. Definitely yes."

"And you're not just saying that because you're drunk?" Kurt mumbles against his lips, the heat in his stomach turning into something that feels a lot like exploding fireworks that are spreading through his whole body.

"No." Blaine grabs the lapels of Kurt's cardigan, trailing his lips over Kurt's jawline as if he can't get enough. "You can ask me again tomorrow, and I'll say yes all over again."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for brief mentions of previous character death.

Kurt is already in the kitchen making coffee by the time Blaine stumbles downstairs the next morning. Figuring out how the coffee machine works was one of the first things Kurt did when he arrived yesterday, but now he can't seem to find another mug. Offering coffee to the guy you had sex with last night is common courtesy though, right?

Especially when--

Kurt glances at Blaine, seeing him rummaging through his coat pockets with his brows furrowed in concentration. Especially when the sex was absolutely mind-blowing. Blaine was passionate and enthusiastic but still somehow incredibly sweet and caring, and Kurt can't remember the last time he had sex that was that good. He's probably never had sex that good.

Kurt gives himself the permission to trail his gaze over Blaine's body in the kitchen's soft morning light. They're both wearing clothes by now, layers upon layers in the chilly cottage, but Kurt can still remember the lines and contours of Blaine's naked body from last night -- his arms and thighs, the faint dusting of dark hair over his sunkissed skin, the birthmark on the nape of his neck that Kurt couldn't stop kissing at one point. And he can also remember how Blaine stared at him when he himself got undressed, the wonder and lust in his eyes when he pulled Kurt closer and didn't seem able to let go.

"A-hah!" Blaine exclaims suddenly, breaking Kurt away from his thoughts. Kurt blinks his eyes and quickly focuses his gaze. Blaine is holding a pair of thick-rimmed glasses that he places on his face with a triumphant grin. The glasses make his eyelashes look even longer, and seriously, how is that fair in any way?

"Better?" Kurt asks with a smile.

"Much," Blaine agrees, fishing his phone out of his pocket and placing it on the kitchen table. "Apparently I somehow managed to get rid of my contacts at some point during the night, even if I can remember seeing clearly when we were..." He makes a vague gesture with his hand, grinning.

"Oh. I see." So Kurt wasn't imagining those stares. He can feel his cheeks turning red again and looks away, damning his pale complexion. "Coffee?" he asks over his shoulder.

"Sure," Blaine says. He turns around and grabs a mug from the shelf on the wall behind him. "Were you looking for this?"

"Ah, yes." Kurt takes the mug with a sheepish smile and pours some coffee in it before handing it back to Blaine. Blaine nods his thanks, and Kurt can see his eyes moving appreciatively up and down Kurt's body for a moment until he looks away again.

Yep, those stares last night were real. And they are definitely doing wonders for Kurt's slightly bruised ego.

They stand in awkward silence for a while, both of them sipping their coffees and avoiding each other's eyes. Kurt glances at Blaine again over the rim of his mug, and god, is this really what it feels like after you've had sex with a complete stranger? This weird mixture of excitement and hope without any regrets? Kurt doesn't know if he should thank Blaine for the nice time or ask him if they could do this again or...

Except they can't do this again. He's leaving today. Right.

"So when do you have to get to the airport?" Blaine asks suddenly, as if he read Kurt's thoughts.

"Oh, in a few hours," Kurt answers, glancing at the clock on the wall. "I'm all packed up, though, so--" He's interrupted by Blaine's phone buzzing on the table, and he instinctively reaches out for it and glances at the screen. "Devon," he reads out loud and then realizes what he did. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--"

Blaine smiles and takes the phone from him just as the buzzing stops. "I should... call back," he says awkwardly, gesturing at the front door.

"Oh, right. Of course," Kurt stutters out, fumbling for something more to say. He wants to say more, wants to get to know Blaine better, but he knows their time is ticking out. Besides, perhaps the Devon who was calling Blaine is someone more special, or perhaps Blaine is a... manizer, for the lack of a better word. He was almost surprisingly eager to have sex with a complete stranger last night. Whatever it is, the morning sun is definitely revealing that this is not an ideal situation in any way.

"Well," Blaine says, straightening his back as he pulls on his coat. "It was nice meeting you, Kurt Hummel. And, um..."

Kurt laughs, trying to ignore how hollow it sounds. "Don't worry, I'm not going to fall in love with you or something."

Blaine stops, his eyes widening. "Well that was blunt."

"Just trying to make this less awkward than it already is," Kurt teases and is rewarded with Blaine's bashful smile. "It's just that I know myself. I know I'm a hopeless romantic at heart, but I'm also very practical, and falling in love with you, what with everything going on in my own life and with you living on the other side of the Atlantic... It's not going to happen. Trust me."

Blaine considers the words. "Alright. That's... Right. So no exchanging phone numbers and calling you back?"

Kurt's traitorous stomach swoops at the idea of hearing from Blaine again, but he quells the feeling and shakes his head firmly but politely. "Nope. Nothing like that."

"Right," Blaine repeats with a frown, looping his scarf around his neck with absent-minded movements. "But what if-- What if I want to call you back?" he blurts out.

Kurt freezes for the second time in less than twelve hours. His heart starts fluttering inside his chest as he looks at Blaine, at the suddenly nervous expression on his face and the way he's playing with his scarf. "I--" he starts, not really knowing what to say.

"Sorry," Blaine interrupts hastily. "Forget about it. You did say you weren't going to--" He cuts himself off and shakes his head, not meeting Kurt's eyes.

Kurt looks at him, his heart in his throat. He woke up this morning with Blaine's naked arm wrapped around his stomach, gel-free curls tickling his shoulder, and he honestly can't remember the last time he's felt that content. But this is a mess; getting involved with Blaine would be a huge mess, and Kurt doesn't think he can handle something like that right now. Not after his latest relationship and not with all the work-induced stress he's under.

He still hasn't managed to come up with anything to say when Blaine finally looks at him, a polite mask over his usually so expressive face.

"Well, I'll get going then," he says, slipping his phone into his pocket. "Like I said, it was nice meeting you, Kurt. You..." He hesitates, the politeness cracking away. "You are definitely the most interesting man I have ever met," he confesses, his eyes suddenly softer. "And if-- If your flight happens to get cancelled or something," he continues in a quieter voice, the raw hope in his words making Kurt's whole chest constrict with emotions, "I'm having dinner at the pub with some friends tonight. You're welcome to join us if... You know. If you want to."

Kurt swallows roughly.

"That's all," Blaine finishes. "So just... Goodbye?"

"Bye, Blaine," Kurt manages to choke out in a low voice. It feels weirdly wrong to say those words.

Blaine gives a small smile, waves his hand a little, and then walks out of the kitchen. Kurt can hear the front door open and close, a gush of cold air rushing into the cottage as Blaine leaves. Kurt stands still in the kitchen, refusing to watch out of the window to see Blaine walk away.

 

\---

 

Kurt makes it all the way to the airport before he decides that maybe he can handle a mess right now after all. He still has almost a week of his holiday left, and when he thinks about Blaine's soft smile and the touch of his hand, he knows he would much rather spend those days with Blaine than alone in New York.

A few hours later he watches as Blaine's face breaks into a wide, excited smile when their eyes meet across the small pub, and Kurt knows he made the right decision.

 

\---

 

They both drink a bit too much that night, and Kurt wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache and a disgusting taste in his mouth. He blinks his eyes slowly open, staring at the cottage ceiling until most of last night comes back to him and he registers the soft snuffling sound coming from the person lying next to him. Blaine is asleep with his head resting on Kurt's shoulder, his fingers wrapped loosely around Kurt's arm, skin against skin. His lashes are fanned over his cheeks, his eyes moving underneath his closed eyelids, dreaming of something Kurt can only guess at.

Kurt can't help but smile, and he brushes a few curls away from Blaine's forehead. Blaine shifts on the bed at the movement, stirring awake and slowly opening his eyes to meet Kurt's gaze.

"Morning," he says in gravelly voice, his lips turning into a lazy smile.

Something in his voice stirs more memories in Kurt, and he can feel his shoulders tensing. "Oh my god," he whispers in horror. "Did we have sex again last night?"

Blaine laughs, sleepy and rumbling. "What?"

"Did we have sex?" Kurt repeats, mortified. "Because if we did, I-- I don't think I remember it. Oh god." He rubs his hand over his face. "New Year's resolution: never drink English beer ever again."

Blaine lets out another laugh, petting Kurt's chest. "We didn't have sex, don't worry."

"We didn't?" Kurt peaks at Blaine between his fingers, pausing in confusion. "Wait. Why didn't we?"

"Call me old-fashioned, but I don't have sex with guys who are practically unconscious," Blaine says, his voice full of good-natured laughter.

" _Unconscious_?" Kurt exclaims, his hand dropping down again. "God, I'm honestly never, ever, drinking anything again. That must have been a sight," he mutters, playing with the frayed edge of the comforter nervously.

Blaine cups his face and leans in for a kiss, his lips curving in a soft smile against Kurt's. "You looked gorgeous, just like you always do," he says earnestly.

Kurt huffs out a disbelieving laugh and kisses Blaine again, stopping short when the sound of a phone buzzing nearby interrupts them. Kurt breaks the kiss, glancing around until he notices Blaine's phone on the bedside table and reaches out for it.

"Sophie," he reads out loud from the screen, cringing as soon as he does it. "I'm sorry, I did it again."

Blaine gives a soft smile and takes the phone. "I better call back."

He stumbles out of bed, naked save for his boxer-briefs, and Kurt stares shamelessly at the movement of his muscles under his skin. Blaine notices him staring and grins at him, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

"When I'm done," he says in a low voice, "we should go out for lunch and get to know each other."

Kurt meets his eyes, feeling a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Oh?"

"We've already slept together twice and had sex once," Blaine points out, "and I'm running out of reasons why we shouldn't go out on a proper date. Aren't you?"

He kisses Kurt's lips one more time and then backs out of the bedroom with a smile on his face, grabbing a robe from the dresser on his way out. Kurt stares after him, listening to the racing  _thump th-thump_ of his heart, his own smile still lingering on his lips.

When it's put like that, any reasons Kurt might have had start to feel completely ridiculous.

 

\---

 

The restaurant Blaine takes him to is fancy but not too fancy. There are families with small children sitting at the corner tables, the comfortable chatter of conversation never stops around them, and when Kurt carefully tastes the wine he ordered, he has to admit that this is probably his new favorite restaurant. The food is delicious, and for a while he and Blaine just talk about general things: the dishes they ordered, the movies they've last seen and the TV shows they watch. When they get to their favorite books, Blaine's eyes suddenly light up like a Christmas tree, and Kurt has to ask.

"I've been wondering this ever since we met," he starts, "but what is it you actually do for a living?"

Blaine smiles. "I'm a book editor."

"Ah." Kurt points at him with his fork. "That explains the excitement on your face when we started talking about literature."

"You got me," Blaine shrugs, still smiling.

"Are you a mean editor?" Kurt teases, already imagining Blaine sitting in his office with his glasses perched on his nose, surrounded by books and manuscripts. It fits him, somehow. It fits the careful way Blaine talks and how Kurt has sometimes noticed him running his fingertips over the books in Cooper's cottage, appreciative and almost reverent.

Blaine scrunches up his nose. "I'd like to think I'm a supportive editor. If the writer I'm working with has earned it," he adds and winks.

Kurt snorts in amusement. "Isn't it really hard to become a book editor?" he asks.

"It is," Blaine nods, "but my whole family is kind of in the publishing business. My dad's a writer, and my mom was a well-known editor for the publishing house I'm working for right now. It's nepotism, I know it is," he admits, looking down in obvious embarrassment, "but I'm doing what I love and what I'm good at, so--"

"I'm not judging you," Kurt says, reaching over their table to squeeze Blaine's hand quickly. "I'm sure you've earned your job with your own merits as well."

Blaine looks back up, giving a smile. "Thank you."

Kurt strokes his thumb over Blaine's knuckles one more time and then pulls his hand back. "I remember Cooper saying that he works in advertising when we were discussing our home exchange," he mentions. "Does he work for publishers as well?"

It's Blaine's turn to snort. "No, Coop is-- He's the black sheep of the family. He has no interest for literature whatsoever. But I'm more interested in _you_ ," he changes the subject, narrowing his eyes playfully at Kurt. "I remember you saying last night that you work in fashion."

"Mmm, I do," Kurt says, swallowing the bite he has in his mouth. "I'm actually an editor for Vogue Dot Com."

" _Woah_." Blaine's eyes widen almost comically. "Vogue Dot Com? That's... Wow."

"Yep," Kurt replies, preening a little. He has worked hard for his position, and he does take pride in what he does. "So I'm an editor as well, just a different kind of an editor."

"That's amazing," Blaine enthuses. "I bet you're just wonderful in your work -- I mean, the outfits you wear and the way you carry them shows you definitely have the eye for something like that."

"Thank you," Kurt says, smiling.

"What about your family then?" Blaine asks offhandedly.

Kurt's shoulders tense immediately, his knife making a screeching sound against his plate.

Blaine's head snaps up at the noise. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to--" he hastens to say.

"No, no, it's fine," Kurt interrupts, forcing his shoulders to relax and placing his utensils on the table. "It's just... I wasn't expecting the question, that's all."

Blaine tilts his head, his eyes soft but curious, not expecting anything but still ready if Kurt wants to share. Kurt huffs out a breathless laugh, shaking his head.

"Okay, here we go," he starts, taking a deep breath and not meeting Blaine's eyes. "I have my dad, who owns a garage back in Ohio, where I'm from, and who's been my biggest supporter since childhood. He's married now, to my step-mom Carole, and I also have a step-brother named Finn who works as an elementary school teacher. They're both amazing, and I do consider them my family, but my..." He pauses, swallowing. "My mom died when I was eight."

He chances a look at Blaine. Blaine's smile has fallen away from his face completely, and he looks paler, something unreadable shining in his eyes, his utensils trembling almost unnoticeably in his hands.

"It was tough," Kurt continues, looking away again. "She understood me better than anyone and I loved her so much, like any kid loves their mom, I suppose -- and then she was gone, just like that. I cried for months, and my dad was honestly worried that I would never stop crying and he would have to take me to a child psychologist or something."

Kurt lets out a choked-off laugh at the memory, and suddenly Blaine's reaching over the table, his hand gripping Kurt's tightly. Kurt squeezes back and takes another deep breath.

"Anyway," he continues, "one day I just... got tired of crying. Crying wasn't going to bring her back, and I realized that the best way to keep going, according to my eight-year-old logic, was to be as strong as I could and not cry all the time. So I... never cried again."

Blaine's hand twitches in surprise. "Never?" he repeats in a quiet voice.

"Well, I did feel like crying when the bullying in high school got really bad and when my dad was in the hospital," Kurt admits, "but I always swallowed the tears and kept going. Believe me, I do know how unhealthy that is now that I'm older, but I... I just can't cry anymore."

"You can't?" Blaine asks, a little incredulously.

"I can't," Kurt repeats. "I try and try, but the tears never come. No matter what." He looks up, meeting Blaine's gaze and mustering up a fleeting smile. "How's that for a confession?"

Blaine squeezes his hand again, his smile small and comforting. "Well, maybe we balance each other out then. Because I cry all the time."

Kurt snorts unwillingly. "You do not."

"I do." Blaine straightens his back, his smile widening a little. "Almost every day."

Kurt laughs, the bad memories moving to the back of his mind again. "Blaine, you honestly don't have to be this nice. It's fine."

"It happens to be the truth," Blaine counters. "Do you really think I would confess something like that just to make you feel better?"

"I have a feeling you would," Kurt teases.

Blaine pauses, his mouth open. "Okay, I would," he concedes, "but I really am telling the truth. Do you have any idea how often Cooper has taunted me about my compulsive crying?"

"Blaine..." Kurt starts laughing again.

"No, it's true -- a good book, a birthday card, one of those advertisements with puppies, and I bawl my eyes out." Blaine nods seriously. "I _weep_."

"Stop it," Kurt gasps out between his laughs.

"I'm a major weeper," Blaine finishes, grinning like an idiot. "Or a major bawler, whatever works best." He shrugs.

Kurt's laughter echoes through the restaurant for a long while after that.

 

\---

 

"Thank you for this," Kurt says when they're sitting in Blaine's car outside the cottage some time later. Kurt's lips are still tingling from the kisses they shared outside the restaurant, and Blaine's hair isn't as gelled as it was in the morning because Kurt has been running his fingers through it. "I had fun," he adds, grinning a little.

"You're not going to invite me in, are you?" Blaine asks with a small, lopsided smile.

Kurt can feel his grin fading. "Blaine... I'm leaving in a few days. For real, this time."

"Right," Blaine says. He turns to look out of the window at the snowy fields, his fingers drumming a restless rhythm against the steering wheel.

"That makes this complicated," Kurt continues, trying to meet Blaine's eyes. "I really like you, Blaine, and I like spending time with you, but... I don't want to get in too deep. I can't do it, not when I'm leaving so soon. You know that."

Blaine's fingers still, and Kurt can see him swallow roughly. "Alright."

"Hey..." Kurt reaches out to cup Blaine's cheek and turns his face back towards himself. "I'm sorry, but I just... You do understand why I'm doing this, don't you?"

Blaine sighs but nods. "I do. I do, I just-- Nevermind. I get it. It's not like I should let myself get in too deep either."

Kurt gives a small smile and leans over the center console to kiss Blaine's lips. Blaine's eyelids flutter shut at the touch, and he kisses back with only a hint of desperation. His hand brushes lightly against Kurt's arm, as if he wants to hold on but is trying not to.

"Drive safely," Kurt whispers against his lips, pecks them one last time, and then leans away, getting out of the car.

He knows Blaine is watching him as he walks over to the cottage, so he turns around at the door and gives a small wave. Blaine waves back from the car, and Kurt can barely make out his resigned smile through the car window and the heavy snow that started to fall during their drive over, but he smiles back anyway.

He gets inside the cottage, closes the door behind himself and immediately leans against it, letting out a deep sigh. His treacherous hands are twitching against the door handle, wanting to open the door and run back to Blaine, but he clenches them into fists and keeps himself in check. He knows he's doing the right thing by not letting things get too complicated, but somehow it still feels wrong.

Inviting Blaine in probably wouldn't have felt as complicated as this.


	3. Chapter 3

By the next evening Kurt's resolve to keep things simple is already crumbling. He misses Blaine, misses the way being around Blaine makes him feel -- comfortable and like himself and more than enough -- and the idea of spending the rest of his holiday sad and alone in the cottage, keeping Blaine at arm's length, just feels... wrong.

He keeps making these rational decisions, trying to be practical and think things through, resisting the impulsive urges in his heart, but then he spends one day away from Blaine, and he just has to give in. He'll probably end up heartbroken when his holiday is over, but he's starting to think that maybe Blaine is worth the heartache. Or at least Kurt wants to find out if he is.

It's easy to find out where Blaine lives, so Kurt buys a bottle of wine and a bouquet of red and yellow roses from the town and makes his way to Blaine's house through the slippery roads and the weird left-hand traffic. The house is an older brick house, surrounded by a garden that seems well-kept even under the thick blanket of snow, and Kurt stands outside the house for a moment, admiring the view. The house looks quite large for just one person, but the address seems to be correct and the plate on the garden gate did have the name Anderson written on it.

Maybe Blaine just likes to have more space. Or maybe he has so many books that he needs the extra space for them.

The thought makes Kurt smile to himself as he stops in front of the door and rings the old-fashioned doorbell. He straightens his coat and fingers his hair for a quick moment, making sure he looks his best, and lets himself smile a little wider when he hears footsteps from the other side of the door. He hides the wine and the flower package behind his back just as the lock turns in the door.

Blaine is smiling with the corners of his eyes crinkled when he opens the door, but his smile drops away when he sees Kurt.

"K-Kurt!" he stutters out, quickly blocking Kurt's view into the house. "W-what are you... Y-you're here."

Kurt's own smile threatens to falter at Blaine's reaction but he pushes on. "Well, I was sitting in the cottage all by myself," he starts, rocking on his heels hopefully, "and I found myself missing you and decided that maybe I could handle something a little complicated after all, so--" He stops when he hears voices coming from the house. "Oh. Shit. You're not alone, are you?"

Blaine swallows and then wordlessly shakes his head, looking torn.

Kurt grips the flowers more tightly behind his back. "Oh. Oh god, I didn't know. I should've-- I'm so sorry, I should just--"

"Dad, who is it?"

Kurt stops, looking down. Wedged between the doorframe and Blaine's legs is a little boy who looks to be around six years old, a mess of dark curls on top of his head. He's staring at Kurt in curiosity, fingers clasped around the fabric of Blaine's pants.

Kurt lifts his gaze back to Blaine. "Dad?" he mouths.

Blaine gives a nervous smile and bends down to lift the boy in his arms, balancing him on his hip. Kurt can now see that there's another child standing in the doorway as well, an older girl who's wearing a pretty dress and who looks so much like Blaine that they have to be related, even if the girl's hair is much lighter than Blaine's. The girl smiles shyly at Kurt and then tugs at the hem of Blaine's shirt.

"Dad, he looks like a Disney prince," she whispers. "Introduce us."

"Right. Um." Blaine bites his lip nervously for a moment, his eyes staring at Kurt with a pleading expression. "Kids, this is my, um, friend, Kurt. He's staying at uncle Cooper's house for the holidays. Kurt, these are Devon and Sophie, my... My kids."

Kurt blinks, his eyes going from Blaine to the kids and back again. "Devon and Sophie," he repeats. The phone calls Blaine kept getting make so much more sense right now. "You have-- You have kids."

Blaine nods, still looking slightly panicked. Devon doesn't seem to have the same problem, because he extends his little hand to Kurt with a toothy smile.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Disney Prince," he says with a slight lisp, and Kurt can see Sophie nodding enthusiastically in agreement from the corner of his eye.

"Kurt, his name is Kurt, Devon," Blaine corrects softly, rolling his eyes.

"You should come in," Devon continues. "We have hot chocolate and dad always puts extra marshmallows in it if you ask nicely."

Kurt lets out an overwhelmed laugh and cautiously shakes Devon's hand with his free one. "Oh, um, thank you. But I should probably--"

"No!" Blaine rushes to interrupt, his eyes widening. He puts Devon down and gestures for Kurt to step in, a little urgent. "Please, come on in, I just... I wasn't expecting you, that's all."

Blaine opens the door all the way and steps aside. Kurt hesitates for a moment, searching Blaine's face because he has no idea what's waiting for him inside -- Blaine's husband, or more kids, or god knows what. Blaine's eyes do seem earnest under all the nervousness, though, so Kurt gives him a small, just as nervous smile and steps inside.

"Are those for us?" Sophie pipes up once he's inside, pointing at the bottle and package Kurt is holding.

"Oh, um..." Kurt fiddles with the bottle. "They're for your dad, actually," he says, cringing at how weird the word 'dad' sounds like when it comes out of his mouth.

"I can take them to the kitchen!" Devon volunteers excitedly and takes them from Kurt's hands, wobbling under their weight immediately.

Sophie shakes his head as if this is something that happens all the time. "I'll help him," she says seriously. "You should take Kurt's coat, dad," she adds as she leads her brother away -- and did she just _wink_ at Blaine?

"Oh, right, yes!" Blaine stutters. He moves to help Kurt out of his coat. "I'm so sorry," he whispers once the kids are out of earshot, "I had no idea you were--"

"Are you married?" Kurt interrupts harshly in a low voice, his heart thumping nervously against his chest. "Tell me right now."

Blaine's hands clench against the fabric of Kurt's coat. "I'm not," he says, completely honest. "I swear."

"Oh, thank goodness," Kurt breathes out and turns around, smoothing his hands over the vest he's wearing to calm his nerves. Alright. He can deal with this. It's a big surprise, but he can deal with it.

Blaine hangs the coat, the line of his shoulders still tense. "I wouldn't string you along like that, Kurt. It's just... complicated."

Kurt tilts his head, hesitating. He can hear the kids giggling in the next room, gushing over the flowers from the sound of it. Blaine pushes his hands in his pockets and glances at Kurt with an awkward expression.

"Are you... D-I-V-O-R-C-E-D?" Kurt spells out, keeping his voice low.

Something falls over Blaine's face, something sad and painful, and he looks away, swallowing roughly.

"W-I-D-O-W-E-R," he spells quietly. "Two years ago."

Kurt's heart stutters inside his chest, his hand flying to cover his mouth. He remembers Blaine's expression in the restaurant when Kurt told him about his mom, and suddenly everything makes sense.

"Blaine..." he starts, reaching out for Blaine. He wants to pull him close and never let go, wants to make at least some of the sadness in Blaine's eyes disappear with a gentle touch. Kurt knows what losing someone feels like, knows how it leaves a hole inside you that nothing can ever quite fill, but he would've never guessed that Blaine knows what it feels like as well.

"Daaaaad!" Devon's voice interrupts them, startling them both. "You promised hot chocolate!"

"Alright, alright!" Blaine calls back. He huffs out a laugh and rubs the back of his neck before looking up and meeting Kurt's eyes. He's smiling hesitantly, and Kurt heart skips a beat all over again. "Would you... like some hot chocolate?" Blaine asks.

Kurt takes a deep breath and nods. He can deal with this. "I'd love some," he replies.

 

\---

 

Kurt doesn't usually like children that much, not unless they're family, but Blaine's kids are just as charming as their dad. They think the flowers Kurt brought are the most beautiful flowers they've ever seen -- "even prettier than the ones in the garden, oh, _Kurt_ , you should see the garden in the summer, you have to come see it!" -- and force Blaine to do his apparently quite famous Mr. Napkinhead impersonation that makes Kurt laugh until his stomach hurts.

Blaine seems like a wonderful dad; he's so natural with the kids, making them smile and laugh and not treating them like they're somehow less intelligent just because of their age. Their family works together so well, and Kurt can't quite understand why Blaine didn't tell him about his kids earlier.

"Do you want to see our tent, Kurt?" Sophie asks excitedly once Blaine is cleaning the hot chocolate mugs away.

"Oh no," Blaine says before Kurt gets the chance to answer, turning to look at his kids. "Kurt is not going to crawl into your blanket tent, okay?"

Devon looks at Kurt, his eyes just as brown and big as Blaine's. "You don't like tents?" he says miserably.

Kurt opens his mouth and then closes it, straightening his back with a lofty expression. "You know what? I'm actually a big fan of tents. I'd love to see yours, if you'd like to show it to me."

He glances at Blaine, perhaps a little challenging, but Blaine is staring back at him with a surprised smile, almost as if he's seeing something completely new in Kurt. Kurt looks away, his cheeks flushed, and lets Devon and Sophie pull him out of the kitchen and into their room.

The tent is definitely more impressive than anything Kurt ever managed to build when he was a kid, even if his blanket forts were quite fabulous as well. This one is made of several big blankets, all hung down from the ceiling so that they form a teepee-shaped hut big enough for at least two adults and several children. Devon and Sophie pull Kurt inside it, telling him to lie down on the mattresses that cover the tent's floor. Kurt is still shuffling around, trying to find a good position, when Blaine crawls into the tent as well, smiling softly and lying down next to Kurt with the kids on either side of them.

There are multicolored paper stars hanging from the tent's ceiling for decoration, swaying gently above the four of them. Kurt feels weirdly comfortable lying there, more comfortable than he has probably felt in years, his shoulder bumping against Blaine's every time either one of them moves, and he tries to stop his heart from fluttering too much from the force of his feelings. Devon starts asking him about Disney princes and if he happens to know any of them, and from the corner of his eye Kurt can see Sophie nudging Blaine's shoulder continuously with a small grin.

"I've never met an actual Disney prince before," Devon grumbles suddenly, flopping over to stare at the stars, his curly head practically resting on Kurt's shoulder. "We never have any grown-ups here."

Sophie stops nudging Blaine and looks at the stars as well. "I know," she sighs, sounding older than she is.

"But I really like this," Devon adds.

"Me too," Sophie says quietly.

Kurt can see Blaine kiss the top of Sophie's head from the corner of his eye. After a moment he hesitantly fumbles for Kurt's hand between their bodies and laces their fingers together, squeezing gently. Their hands slot together perfectly, and Kurt closes his eyes, breathing in and out as slowly as he can even if his heart is racing.

This is definitely something more.

 

\---

 

"I've never seen anyone be a bigger hit with my children," Blaine says as he steps into the living room after putting the kids to bed. "Seriously, that was just... Thank you, Kurt."

Kurt looks up from the bookshelf he's been taking in ever since he said goodnight to Devon and Sophie (he was right, Blaine does have a lot of books). "For what?" he asks.

"For... not running away screaming, I suppose?" Blaine offers, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

"They're great kids," Kurt says, smiling, and crosses his arms over his chest. "Really."

Blaine gives a laugh and sits down on the sofa's arm rest. "They are. Sophie seems to think she has to take care of me somehow -- it's sweet, but I wish she wouldn't worry so much. And Devon..." He laughs again. "Well, let's just say that he was unusually calm tonight. He's quite the firecracker, really."

Kurt forces another smile, scuffing his shoe against the floor. "I guess I'm just wondering why you didn't tell me about them sooner."

The easy smile falls away from Blaine's face, and he sighs, dragging his hand down his cheek. "It's... complicated, Kurt, like I said."

"Well explain it to me anyway," Kurt says, a little more biting than he intended.

Blaine keeps his eyes on the floor. "Look, it just... I know you're probably judging me right now, but it just gets rough sometimes, you know, explaining my situation to new people. The kids were staying at my parents' this weekend, and for a few days I could pretend that I'm young and single and that my life isn't such a complicated mess." He gives a hollow laugh. "And then I met you, and you seemed to like the pretend-me and it was easier to keep the act going, so I just... didn't tell you."

His voice sounds so sad that Kurt can feel his posture softening automatically. "Blaine..."

"Don't get me wrong," Blaine rushes to continue, "I love my kids more than anything. They're the light of my life and I would never trade them for anything or anyone, but... I mean, I'm a full-time dad." He shrugs tiredly, glancing up at Kurt. "I'm a working parent. I'm a guy who reads parenting books and cookbooks before I go to sleep instead of all the manuscripts I should be reading for work. I spend my weekends buying tutus and dresses for Sophie and making sure that Devon doesn't fall from the table when he's playing Superman. I'm learning to sew and I make up silly impressions to get my kids to laugh." Blaine shakes his head with another laugh and looks away. "I don't really know how to combine all that with regular dating. Not without pretending to be someone I'm not."

Kurt swallows roughly, something lodged in his throat. He knows that Blaine is listing all those things as an example of how complicated his life is, but Kurt can't help feeling that it all sounds pretty amazing as well. Complicated, yes, but also... Comfortable. Something Kurt himself would like to be a part of one day.

He offers a small smile, averting his eyes and wringing his hands. "I guess all that is rather hard to relate to."

"You have no idea," Blaine sighs, running his hand through his hair and messing up the gel. "It took me a long while to get things working at least this well after--"

He pauses, swallowing and blinking his eyes. Kurt instinctively takes a step closer to him, remembering how long he and his dad were completely lost after his mom died, and his heart is starting to ache both with old memories and new feelings.

Blaine looks up when he senses Kurt's movement. "And I... I guess there's also always that fear of what someone new could do to the three of us," he says quietly, staring into Kurt's eyes, as if he's hoping he understands. "We manage to get through every day just fine now, but if someone were to come along and the kids got attached to him and then..." He trails off.

"Oh." Kurt stops in his tracks, his mind finally connecting the last dots. "And with me leaving in a few days..."

Blaine nods sadly. "Exactly."

Kurt can feel his shoulders slumping as he sighs. "God, I think we just went way past complicated," he mutters in a low voice.

"But it's been worth it so far," Blaine says, his voice quiet, "hasn't it?"

Kurt reaches out again, taking Blaine's hand and squeezing it. "It has, trust me. But I have no idea how we're going deal with this from now on."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final part, folks! Thanks for reading, and happy new year! :D

Their situation may be complicated, but they successfully avoid talking about it for the next few days as they go on casual dates and spend as much time together as possible. Both of them are trying to ignore the shadow hanging over them, even if Kurt finds himself counting the days anyway -- _only four days left, only three days with Blaine, only two and a half days until I have to leave this all behind_ \-- and he has the feeling that Blaine is probably doing the same. Kurt doesn't see Sophie and Devon that often, and he knows Blaine is doing it on purpose, protecting his kids from possible heartbreak.

But if their situation is complicated, at least the sex is easy.

It's the night before Kurt is scheduled to leave England, and the air in the small bedroom in the cottage is warm and comfortable around them. Blaine lets out one last tired moan and then rolls over on his back, trying to catch his breath. Kurt leans against his elbows and watches as Blaine's chest heaves, droplets of sweat shining starkly against his skin in the bedroom's soft lighting. Kurt has noticed that Blaine is unfairly gorgeous all the time, but he looks especially beautiful in moments like these, when his face is unguarded, his eyes heavy-lidded and his lips curled in a small, satisfied smile, the curls on his temples breaking free from the gel. He looks so inviting, for the lack of a better word, like someone Kurt wouldn't mind waking up next to for the rest of his life.

And that thought scares him. A lot.

"You are amazing," Blaine gasps out, resting his hand on his chest as if he's manually trying to calm his heartbeat. "Amazing, honestly. That thing you did with your legs, I don't even--"

Kurt laughs, flopping down on the bed. "You, my kind sir, aren't so bad either."

"Why thank you," Blaine says with a wry grin, turning his head to look at Kurt. Then he suddenly lets out a laugh, rolling to his side in one languid movement. "God, if Cooper ever finds out what we've done in his bed, he's going to kill me."

Kurt snorts.

"Well, at least I'll have happy memories to think about if it happens," Blaine continues. His sentence starts jokingly, but Kurt can hear his voice turning serious by the end of it. "Just memories," Blaine adds, quieter, his frown audible.

"This is such a mess," Kurt mutters, turning over on the bed so he can face Blaine. "What are we even doing, Blaine? I'm leaving tomorrow."

"I am aware of that, thank you," Blaine comments. "But you know, long distance relationships do work out," he adds hopefully, his voice making it sound more like a question or a suggestion.

Kurt looks at him, and the small smile on Blaine's face makes his insides twist and turn into knots because he knows that smile is going to fall away any time soon. "Do you come to New York often for work?"

Blaine hums, contemplating with his brows furrowed. "No, not really -- Frankfurt's the place to be in my line of business. What about you to London?"

Kurt sighs. "Maybe once or twice a year to the London Fashion Week, if my boss thinks I should write an article about it. But it's not a given." He twists the sheet between his hands. "Besides, it's just... Let's be honest, Blaine, we would just be prolonging the inevitable."

Blaine freezes next to him, his shoulders tense. "What do you mean?" he asks warily.

"Well, just..." Kurt starts, staring at the ceiling because he can't stand to see Blaine's face right now, can't stand to see the hurt in his eyes. "Imagine we do our best to make this happen, fly back and forth and all that. Eventually we're going to hit a wall in any case -- you can't leave the kids for too long and I can't be away from work all the time, and what was once fun and exciting just turns into a miserable chore. We'll start arguing and fighting, and then after a while we can't stand it anymore and say goodbye." He ignores the way Blaine flinches at the word and pushes on, "You'll bawl your eyes out and I won't because I can't--"

Blaine huffs. "That's nice, thank you."

"-- and then that'll be it. Done and over for good." Kurt glances at Blaine carefully. His arms are crossed over his bare chest and he looks more closed-off than Kurt has ever seen him before. "It's not like we're ever going to see each other again," he continues quietly. "We'll just be two people left feeling miserable because they had yet another relationship that didn't last."

Blaine stays quiet, and Kurt reaches out a hand, resting it on Blaine's arm. It hurts, being so close and knowing that he can't stay.

"So maybe we should just accept the inevitable," he goes on, trying to meet Blaine's eyes. He feels like he's lying to himself and to Blaine as well, but he needs to figure his way out of this doomed mess. "Maybe we should realize that what we've had has been amazing and it probably won't get any better than this. Maybe there's nothing to figure out anymore."

Blaine gives a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "You are one seriously depressing person, Kurt."

"Not depressing," Kurt counters quietly and squeezes Blaine's arm, "just a realist. I've had to learn to be like this over the years."

Blaine finally meets his eyes, something unreadable in his gaze. "I think I have another scenario for you," he says, unsure.

"You do?" Kurt asks, tilting his head.

"You-- You move me, Kurt," Blaine breathes out suddenly.

His voice is soft and hopeful and reverent, everything Kurt adores about him, and Kurt freezes, something clenching tightly around his heart, his hand stopping on Blaine's arm.

"I'm sorry for the blunt delivery," Blaine continues, a little unsure again, "but as problematic as this might be, you do move me and I... I'm in love with you." He stares into Kurt's eyes, more honest than ever before. "And it's not just because it feels good to feel this way -- which it by the way does, or at least it did before you painted that depressing picture of our future. I can't figure out the hows or the whys or anything like that, I just know that I love you -- and wow, I'm really saying it a lot right now, aren't I?" He lets out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck before sobering and continuing again. "It's just that I... I never thought I'd feel this way again, Kurt, so this is pretty amazing for me. And I know that I come with a package deal, three for the price of one, and..."

He hesitates, averting his eyes, and Kurt swallows roughly into the silence, his heart in his throat.

"And my package probably isn't all that wonderful in the light of day," Blaine admits sheepishly, "but I finally know what I want and how I could make my life better, and that in itself feels like a miracle." He takes a shuddering breath, his eyes shining as he meets Kurt's gaze. "And what I want... is you, Kurt."

Kurt stares at him for a long while, his heart clenching and his throat suddenly feeling dry. What can he say to that? What could he possibly say when Blaine just bared his feelings, let it all out for Kurt to see, honest and loving and so, _so_ vulnerable -- and Kurt's plane back to New York leaves in less than twelve hours. What can he say when Blaine just revealed that this isn't something casual to him, something they can end with a few farewell kisses and kind words?

Kurt doesn't even know what this is to himself anymore.

"I wasn't expecting a love confession," he says quietly, pulling his hand away from Blaine's arm. His mind is a mess, an even bigger mess than it was when this conversation started, and he has no idea what to do or say.

Blaine's face falls at his words, the light disappearing from his eyes, and Kurt can feel his own heart cracking at the sight of it.

"Blaine, please don't look at me like that," he pleads, reaching out again, but Blaine dodges his hand. "I'm just trying to find the right thing to say, that's all," he tries.

Blaine gives a small laugh, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "I think that if the obvious response doesn't immediately come to you, we can just-- We should just talk about something else." He pushes himself up on his hands, putting some space between himself and Kurt, and Kurt follows the movement with his eyes, feeling a heavy pressure behind his eyelids. "Like for example what a complete idiot I am," Blaine mutters once he's sitting on the bed, still rubbing his hand over his face. "You did promise me that you wouldn't fall in love with me. Note to self: pay better attention."

His shoulders are hunched, curling in on himself, as if he's withdrawing from Kurt and from happiness as well. Kurt blinks quickly a few times, but the pressure behind his eyes doesn't go away, not until he extends his hand and strokes his fingers down Blaine's back.

There's only one thing he can think of doing right now.

He shifts closer to Blaine on the bed and moves his hands to cup his face, turning it around towards himself. Blaine looks at him, his eyes shining with unshed tears, and Kurt does his best to turn his lips into a comforting smile.

"I've never met anyone who pays as much attention as you do, Blaine," he says softly. "But just for now, the only thing you have to pay attention to... is this."

He leans in and kisses Blaine's lips, pulling him back down on the bed. Blaine goes willingly, closing his eyes and clinging to Kurt's body, and Kurt tries to ignore how tightly he himself holds on to Blaine as well.

Sex is easy, and it's also all they can do for now.

 

\---

 

The last hours pass too quickly, and before Kurt realizes it he's already handing his luggage to the taxi driver and then turning around at the cottage door to look at Blaine. Blaine has his hands in his pockets, his shoulders hunched against the cold wind that keeps ruffling his ungelled hair, and Kurt is itching to reach out for him, to hold him close and keep him warm and never let go. He has no idea what this thing he's feeling is, but he knows it's something strong.

"Don't worry, I'll change the sheets before Cooper gets back," Blaine jokes feebly, rocking on his heels. He has refused to meet Kurt's eyes ever since they woke up, and it's making Kurt's heart ache worse than ever before.

"Hey," Kurt tries, giving in and reaching out to stroke his hand down Blaine's arm. "I'll call you, okay? And we'll e-mail, won't we?"

Blaine nods, still not meeting Kurt's eyes. "Sure," he agrees, but he doesn't sound too convinced.

Not that Kurt blames him. After all, he was the one who painted the rather unhappy picture of their future just last night, whereas Blaine was the one who confessed his feelings and then completely shut off when Kurt didn't know what to say in reply. God, this is such a mess. If Kurt could just figure out what he's feeling, if he could just take his emotions and line them up neatly in front of himself and make sense of them, he's sure that he would know the right thing to say. But apparently Kurt's life has been destined to be a complicated mess.

"Okay," he says quietly, squeezing Blaine's arm. He can hear the taxi driver getting impatient behind him, and he knows he has to leave now if he wants to make it to the airport on time.

Why on earth is this so difficult?

"I'm going to kiss you now," he continues, "and then I'll just say... 'be seeing you'." He has learned from the last time that saying goodbye to Blaine just feels wrong, and he refuses to say those words again.

Blaine finally lifts his head, looking Kurt in the eye. He looks like he's seconds away from crying, his eyes shining and wobbly, and when Kurt leans in slowly and brings their lips together he can feel Blaine trembling against him. His lips are dry and chilly from the cold weather, and Kurt drags the kiss out for as long as he can, until the taxi driver coughs behind him and they have to break apart.

He squeezes Blaine's arm one last time and then steps back, giving a weak smile. "I'll be seeing you," he says.

Blaine swallows roughly but returns the smile a bit shakily. He doesn't say anything, just nods and lifts his hand in small wave as Kurt walks backwards to the taxi, pulls the door open and stumbles inside. Kurt doesn't take his eyes off of Blaine, not even when he closes the door behind himself and presses his hand against the cool car window, his heart beating erratically in his chest. The pressure behind his eyes is back again, and he feels uncomfortable, his skin too tight and his insides twisting and turning.

"Ready to go, sir?" the taxi driver asks.

Kurt watches as Blaine lowers his hand and offers Kurt one last sad smile.

"Sure," he answers.

The car gives a lurch and moves forwards. Kurt tries to keep his eyes on Blaine for as long as he can, but before too long the taxi takes a turn and the cottage disappears behind a low hill. Kurt forces himself to turn away and slumps against the backseat, something painful clenching around his chest.

"Did you have a good holiday, sir?" the taxi driver asks politely, glancing at Kurt through the rear-view mirror.

Kurt nods. "I did," he says quietly, rubbing his hand over his chest. "Probably the best I've ever had."

"That's nice then," the driver replies cheerily, focusing on driving again.

Kurt's skin is itching, the pressure behind his eyes feeling heavier and heavier by the second. He huffs in annoyance and rubs his hand over his eyes, shifting on the seat. His chest feels tight, like there's something lodged right at the bottom of his throat, and when he tries to swallow against it, it just feels worse.

It's as if he can't get enough air in his lungs, like there's something stuck in the way, and the pressure behind his eyes keeps building until Kurt has no choice but to blink his eyes quickly and tilt his head back, hoping that whatever is going on will go away if he just tries to calm down and take a few deep breaths.

"Sir?" the driver asks, his voice confused.

Something is blurring Kurt's eyes, and when he tries to take a breath it sounds shaky and shuddering even to his own ears. He lifts his head again, gasping for air, his chest clenching and his eyes itching, and --

Something wet falls down his cheek.

Kurt freezes, lifting his hand to his face. More wetness runs from his eyes, spilling over and pouring down his cheeks, and suddenly he lets out a sob, brushing his hand over the tears.

Tears. He's crying.

Kurt lets out a wet laugh, wiping his face with the sleeve of his coat. His chest hasn't ached like this in over two decades, not since he lost his mom and decided that he had to be strong to keep going. The tears are flowing steadily out of his eyes by now, faster than Kurt can wipe them away, and his breathing is shaky, something tight wrapped around his whole upper body from the force of his tears.

He's crying for the first time since his childhood, and it's all because he's leaving Blaine behind.

Kurt laughs again, and it sounds more like a sob. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have been so incredibly blind? Blaine is everything he's been looking for since he was young and still believed that love conquers all; Blaine is the first person who makes his inner hopeless romantic lift its head and practically bloom. Blaine is kind and gentle and earnest and endearingly bashful, and he makes Kurt feel more, makes his heart beat faster or skip a few beats from pure happiness, makes him smile and laugh and confess things he's never told to anyone before, makes him feel like who he is and what he has to offer is for once in his life more than enough.

He feels like home when he's with Blaine, and leaving him behind is like leaving his home for good, like all the tears he has pushed away during the years are finally breaking free.

He... He loves Blaine.

"Turn the car around," he gasps out abruptly.

"Excuse me?" the driver asks.

"Turn the car around," Kurt repeats, wiping the tears away and probably smiling like a lunatic. He finally knows what he wants, and he has to go get it right now.

"I can't turn the car around, sir," the driver says confusedly, "the road's too narrow here."

"Fine, then at least stop it," Kurt snaps. "Stop the car!"

The car screeches to a halt right there in the middle of snowy English fields, and before the driver gets the chance to say anything Kurt has opened the door and is stumbling out. He gives his surroundings a quick glance -- they're not that far from the cottage, not yet, since the roads are so slippery and the taxi had to drive carefully -- and feels an excited smile spreading over his face.

And then, he starts running.

"Sir?" the driver calls after him, but Kurt doesn't listen.

He hasn't run like this in years, not since he ran away from bullies in middle school, but this time he's not running away from something -- he's running towards someone. His shoes slips and slide on the ice but somehow he doesn't fall. The snowy fields and lone trees rush past him, the wind cold against his smiling face, and Kurt runs forward, his feet hitting the road in an even rhythm.

There's the low hill he passed earlier, the hedge that surrounds Cooper's lands, and before Kurt knows it he sees the cottage. He skids to a stop right in front of it, almost falling down when the sole of his shoe slides over a patch of ice. He stumbles forward, pulling the cottage door open in one movement and running inside.

"Blaine?" he calls out, still smiling. "Blaine!"

He hears a noise from the kitchen and rushes towards it, only stopping when he sees Blaine leaning against the kitchen counter. Blaine's face is blotchy with tears, his breathing shaky like he has been crying ever since Kurt left, and his eyes are still wet and shining.

"K-Kurt?" he stutters out, wiping his hand over his eyes and sniffling. "W-what are you--"

"I was just thinking," Kurt interrupts, trying to catch his breath after his sudden sprint, "why would I ever leave before New Year's Eve? I mean, I still have vacation days left. That makes no sense at all."

Blaine sniffles again, blinking his eyes rapidly as he stares at Kurt in confusion.

"I know you didn't exactly ask me out," Kurt continues, taking a hesitant step closer and softening his voice, "but you did say you love me. So I probably have a date. I mean, if you'll have me."

Blaine lets out a choked-off laugh. "I have the kids on New Year's Eve," he points out.

Kurt smiles. "Sounds perfect."

"Kurt..." Blaine shakes his head, wiping his tears away again.

Kurt quickly closes the distance between them and frames Blaine's face with his hands, forcing him to look into his eyes. "Blaine," he starts, trying to keep his voice from shaking, "there is a moment when you say to yourself, 'oh, there you are -- I've been looking for you forever'." He smiles softly. "You are that moment for me. And I'm not letting go of you ever again."

Blaine blinks, a few tears falling down his cheeks again. "What do you--"

"I love you," Kurt interrupts. "I love you too. I'm sorry it took me so long to say it back."

Blaine's face breaks into an overwhelmed smile and he starts crying in earnest, pulling Kurt closer and burying his face in his shoulder. Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine, clinging to him and pressing a kiss on the curve of his neck. The tightness around his chest eases up, and he feels warm and safe in Blaine's arms, even if there are tears streaming down his face again, falling into Blaine's hair -- but they're good tears this time, caused by happiness and love.

He's home.

 

\---

 

**_Epilogue._ **

 

Sometimes things just fall into place, even in Kurt Hummel's life.

It's the day after New Year's, and Kurt is desperately trying to figure out how he can keep both Blaine and his job, when his boss calls him, casually asking him how his holiday has been.

"It's been... amazing, Isabelle," Kurt answers and watches with a fond smile from the kitchen doorway as Blaine sings along to the radio with Devon and Sophie while they make brunch from leftovers. Sophie is wearing the dress that Kurt bought her, and Devon keeps asking Blaine what the lyrics of _Auld Lang Syne_ mean.

And Blaine...

Blaine is looking happier than Kurt has ever seen him before. He's practically glowing with happiness, and it makes Kurt's heart skip a beat, just like it always does.

"So you've enjoyed England then?" his boss asks.

"I have," Kurt says, stifling a laugh and ducking into the next room when Devon starts singing louder and quite off-key. "I really have."

"I see. That's good, then." Isabelle coughs over the phone, hesitating for a moment. "How would you like to move there, Kurt?" she asks abruptly.

Kurt stops, almost dropping the phone in surprise. "What?"

"We have a position coming up in our London office," Isabelle explains. "It has more responsibility than your current job, but the pay is better as well, and it would be right up your alley. And I do mean right up your alley, Kurt." She keeps going, probably interpreting Kurt's stunned silence as hesitance. "I know this is a little unexpected and sudden, and London is quite far away, but when I found out about the position I immediately thought of you, and--"

"Wait," Kurt interrupts, clutching the phone in his hand. "Are you telling me that I could work in London? That there's basically a job waiting for me right _here_?"

"Well, yes," Isabelle says. "If you want the job, I mean. I can e-mail you the details..."

"I want it," Kurt rushes to say. He can hear Blaine laughing in the kitchen, joyous and amused, and god, Kurt can really have this. He can stay here with Blaine and keep his job at Vogue Dot Com, he can have a house that doesn't feel empty and see how Sophie and Devon grow up.

For once in his life, he doesn't have to give anything up.

"That job is mine, Isabelle," he says decisively into the phone. "Don't you dare offer it to anyone else."

"Okay?" Isabelle laughs, surprised. "England really made an impression on you then, huh?"

Kurt leans against the wall and smiles to himself when the radio in the kitchen starts playing Aretha Franklin's _You Send Me_. Blaine peeks his head into the room, shimmying his shoulders in time with the music. His mouths turns into a grin when he sees Kurt.

"Brunch is ready when you are," he whispers in sing-song and blows Kurt a kiss. Kurt catches it, and Blaine laughs as he ducks back into the kitchen.

"Yeah," Kurt says into the phone, his smile widening. "It made a lasting impression."

 

_At first I thought it was infatuation_   
_Oh, it lasted so long, so long_   
_Now I find myself wanting_   
_I want you to marry me_   
_Please take me home..._

 

_**The End.** _


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